Torn Between Worlds
by ChameleonPhoenix
Summary: Kylera Drae used to be homeschooled...until Death Eaters killed her family. Now, she is admitted into Hogwarts and is looking for revenge. Draco Malfoy is facing a difficult choice. Will their problems pull them in different paths?
1. First Encounter

A/N; Harry Potter, unfortunately, does not belong to me. Please forgive me if my story contradicts something that happens in the book, it's mostly AU. Hope you enjoy the story! And please, review =)

It was well past midnight, and the silence that descended was almost palpable. She sat alone, high up in the astronomy tower, hands hugging her knees to her body, eyes closed. It was cold, a breeze swept into the open tower, playing with her flowing dark hair, but she didn't feel the chill. Her eyes looked far, beyond the dark courtyard, beyond the lake, beyond the castle walls. She didn't see the twinkling stars up above in the dark night sky, she didn't see the shadow of an owl swoop across the full moon, she didn't see the trees swaying in the winds. No, her eyes saw far beyond that. Her eyes saw into the past. Snippets of memories flowed through her mind. It was her 15th birthday, her parents had bought her the dog she had always wanted. Delighted, she enveloped them in a hug. She could hear their laughter, the soft tinkling laughter of her mother, the deep guffaws of her father, happy that she loved their gift. Then it was a blurry image of her mother sitting beside her, caressing her cheek as she lay almost delirious on her bed, her mother singing a song that calmed her sick body, the silhouette of her father at the door, looking in with worry. She saw joy, she saw laughter, she saw warmth. She saw their loving gazes, she heard their voice, she felt their touch; gazes that she would never see again, voices she would never hear again, the warm touch she would never feel again. Unknowingly, a tear escaped her eye, travelling the path down her cheek, to her chin, falling to the ground, only to be joined by others.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear the footsteps travelling up the stairs. The door suddenly creaked open, startling her. She whipped her head around to see what had disturbed her. The boy looked as startled as she was. Moonlight shone on his platinum blonde hair, giving it an almost ethereal glow. It was far too dark to see his face clearly, but his pointed features were unmistakably aristocratic. He turned to leave, but she stopped him. She wasn't going to take his spot away from him, a fellow lost soul seeking the peacefulness and calmness of the tower. "You don't have to leave," her voice was no louder than a whisper, but it was clearly heard. Hesitant, he turned back and walked to sit next to her on the hard stone floor. There was no pressure to talk, and neither wanted to break the delicate veil of tranquility in the tower, so they fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Strangely enough, she enjoyed his quiet company. It was comforting to have him sit beside her.

Her previous life had just gone up in flames. Literal flames. She would never forget that terrifying scene. Not in her whole life. _The feeling of panic clawing at her heart as she looked on at the flames engulfing her home, her home that she had lived in for all her life. Fighting against the strong grip of the auror who held onto her, fighting to get into her house, fighting to see if her parents were still alive. She was hysterical, weeping. She knew that they were dead, she knew that going into the house would only kill her, but there was nothing more she wanted to do than to rush into her house and search through the rubble for her parents, to see them once again. The red glow of the flames mingled with the green glow of the dark mark above the house, menacingly glaring down at the scene below. Rage rose up suddenly, unbidden. She ranted and screamed. How dare they? How dare they come along and destroy her life? It was a long time before her tears finally ran out. She didn't know how she had ended up on the ground, but there she continued sitting, long after everyone else had left. No one had bothered bringing her away, they could only throw sympathetic glances at her and leave her to her grief. The fire had already died down, the house a charred mess. The place was strangely quiet, the silence broken only by her occasional sobs. She squeezed her eyes shut, but nothing could shut off the chilling scene of her home burning under the glow of the skull with a snake curling around it, and she knew that this very picture would haunt her nights for years to come._

_A hand on her shoulder, and she turned around slowly, to look into the bright blue eyes of an old man. Through the haze clouding her mind, she recognized that he was Albus Dumbledore, one of the leading figures in the fight against Voldemort. He was saying something to her in a soothing tone, but she couldn't hear anything. She felt exhausted, and unfeeling. Shock had turned into hatred, then into grief, and finally into indifference. She could not recall what happened next, it seemed to pass in a blur. Dumbledore had brought her to the Ministry, answered some questions, arranged some matters, flooed her to Hogwarts, then left her in what she guessed was a guest room. _

_For the first few weeks she never left the room. Her meals were brought in by a houseelf and when she was not picking at her food, she was lying in bed or staring out of the window. She had a good view of the grounds, but in her state of mind there was no way she could appreciate it in the slightest. Sometimes Dumbledore would visit her in a bid to talk to her and get her to open up but he never succeeded. Mostly she was left alone. She was right, her nights were sleepless and if she could finally fall asleep after the hours of tossing and turning, she would awaken only moments later, ears ringing with the frantic shouts and the sight of flames burned in her mind. She soon took to wandering around the castle during the nights. It was always eerily quiet, no one was back in school yet as the holidays would not be ending for several weeks yet. The silence gave her a sense of calm, lulling her into the illusion that nothing was wrong, no death to grief about, no dark lord to worry about, no past, no future, just the present, the peaceful, serene present. It was on one of her night walks that she found this tower and ever since then, she had come to this place every night. _

"Are you alright?" Suddenly a voice broke through her thoughts. It was the boy, she had forgotten that he was there. She gave a hollow laugh and shook her head slightly, knowing that she looked like a mess. She hadn't slept well in weeks so there were dark circles encircling her dull eyes. She hadn't eaten so she had gotten painfully thin. Neither had she bothered to brush her hair or change into decent clothes. She turned to take in the sight of the boy and had to admit that she looked like a homeless beggar compared to him, not that she cared in the very least. His cloak was made of obviously expensive material, looking at the way it shimmered slightly under the moonlight. His blonde hair fell perfectly over his grey eyes, which were at the moment directed at her face, with a look of concern in them. Suddenly feeling a wave of embarrassment hit her, she angrily wiped away the tears that had fallen unbidden down her face. She was a strong person, in the past, she would never have let anyone catch her in a moment of weakness, she never shed tears. And now…here she was, weeping away in front of a boy she barely knew. She turned away and they fell back into silence. Time passed deceptively slowly, as if an eternity was spent sitting there in silent contemplation, but finally dawn came. When the first rays of sunshine hit the ground in front of them, he got up without a sound and left. The boy, she didn't even know who he was, nor where he came from. But she felt a connection to him, after all they were both lonely souls, torn up inside with problems no one else could understand, needing to escape from the pain of their daily lives. His absence was keenly felt, the tower felt strangely lonely now that she was alone so she too left soon after.

Night after night passed in this manner, the both of them sitting up in the tower, each lost in their own thoughts. He never spoke to her again after that first night, and she couldn't find it in herself to try talking to him. She felt a slight sense of curiosity, she wanted to know his name, or what he was doing in school when everyone was away for the holidays, but she never did ask. As the weeks passed, the sharp pain she felt whenever she thought of her previous life faded into a dull throb, and she began to wonder what would happen to her now that her previous life was gone. She was ready, ready for a new life, ready for... she smiled slightly when she thought about it, a shiver of excitement ran down her spine. Yes, she was ready for,

Vengeance.


	2. A New Life

A/N; I'll be starting to switch between point of views since this is almost as much a story about Draco as it is about Kylera. As always, anything noticeable from the world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. Enjoy, and review!

**A few days before the start of the new school term**

She made her way to the Great Hall. It was an hour past noon, and after weeks spent holed up in her room, she finally decided to have her lunch in the Great Hall. After all, she thought, she could not spend her whole life hiding behind a door and wishing that everything that had happened was a mere nightmare. As she got to the doors and reached a hand out to grasp the handle, the door suddenly flew open. She gasped and jumped back just in time to avoid being hit by the heavy door. The boy walked out and stopped suddenly in his tracks as he saw that he was about to crash into her. It was _him_, now that it was daytime there was enough light for her to see him clearly for once. He looked different, more emotionless, cold, and she had to admit to herself, he was attractive. Not only did he have a handsome face and tall athletic build, there was an aura about him, an aura that hinted that he was important, smart, dangerous. She noted with some surprise at how adept he was at concealing his feelings. None of the vulnerability and hurt she had previously witnessed broke through the mask of indifference he carefully upheld. Realizing that he had revealed his weakness to her, a side he was obviously unaccustomed to showing to others made her feel better about the image she must have portrayed to him. She was comforted by the fact that she was not the only one who had cracked.

She gave him a small smile; it was all she could manage, and even then, that once familiar action felt alien to her face. It had been too long since she had let a smile touch her lips. He looked at her, and after an almost unnoticeable moment of hesitation, he gave her a nod of recognition and brushed past her, as if he was rushing off somewhere. She had intended to ask him who he was, but he had left before she could say anything. As she walked through the doors to a table in the middle of the hall, she frowned slightly, deep in thought. She could swear that she had seen a flash of pain in his eyes before he walked off. And that moment of hesitation, it was as if he had no idea how to react. She forcefully pushed the thoughts out of her mind, she was overthinking things. Anyway, there would be more than enough opportunities to talk to him some other time, since they attended the same school.

It was then that she finally noticed the Hall that she had walked into, and she let out a sigh of appreciation. Her father had often told her about Hogwarts, and how impressive it was, but she would never have imagined that it would be _this_ impressive. Far above her head, was the ceiling that reflected the sky outside. It was a bright and sunny day, and natural light illuminated every corner of the Hall. It gave an airy, free, feeling, none of the constrained and caged in feeling that she was afraid dominated the scene of living in a stone castle. On a magical scale, the sheer amount of magic required to sustain this massive illusion over the centuries amazed her. On a personal level, the feeling of dining outdoors and beauty of nature touched her heart. She smiled once again; it seemed easier this time round.

**Draco's POV**

When he saw her, he was surprised on several levels. Firstly, he had not expected anyone to be in his way as he came out of the Hall and almost walked into her. Secondly, he had only ever seen her in the night in the Astronomy Tower. He had subconsciously thought of her as an almost ghost-like presence that existed solely within the Tower. To see her in the flesh in the middle of the day solidified her and finally made her seem like a real-life person. And lastly, he noted with an appreciative glance that she looked much better cleaned up. Her jet black hair was tied up in a high ponytail and pulled back from her face, he could see that her large black eyes were shining. She was tall and slim, perhaps a bit on the thin side, which could be easily attributed to the fact that she probably hasn't eaten much in the past weeks.

He saw her smile at him, a small one, like she couldn't find the energy in her to give him a proper smile. He didn't mind, he understood what she must be feeling inside. But he was thrown into turmoil. On one hand, he wanted to smile back at her and talk to her. He felt connected to her on a deeper level, a feeling that he had never experienced with any of his so-called friends. Friends? More like acquaintances, he noted with a wry grin. He knew that they only stuck to him because of his money, power, and looks. With her…the nights spent together at the top of the Tower had somehow established in them a bond of mutual trust and understanding, even though they never said a word to each other. In front of her, he had let his shell crack, and he knew that if he wanted to talk to anyone about his problems, she was the only one he could find. Yet another side warred within him. He was not here to make friends, not this year, not with the despicable things he was tasked to do. And he could never tell her about his problems, she would not understand. No one would. She would only fear him and hate him when she found out what a monster he was forced to become. There was only one choice he could make, and though he felt a sense of loss when he made that decision, he knew that he would have to forgo ever having her as a friend. It was a quick decision to make considering that there were no other alternatives, and hoping that she did not notice his slight hesitation, he gave her a nod and walked away before she could react. He had wanted to ignore her completely but he knew that the cold refusal to acknowledge her presence would hurt her greatly and he could not find it in himself to bring to her anymore hurt than she had already experienced. With a start he realised that he was caring about her feelings, a definitely foreign concept to Draco Malfoy.

**Lera's POV**

She had almost finished eating when she heard someone call her name. She turned around and saw a strict-looking teacher that looked vaguely familiar. She racked her brain for her identity. Ah, Professor McGonagall, she recalled. Professor Dumbledore had left her to bring her to the guest room when she had arrived on that fateful day. The Professor's name must have subconsciously registered in her mind.

"Miss Drae, the Headmaster would like to see you in his office, I'll show you where the office is," and as if she noticed that Kylera was still eating, "I can wait until you are done with your food."

She immediately stood up, Dumbledore was just the person she wanted to see. "It's alright, Professor McGonagall, I'm done here. Let's go."

She was led through several corridors before finally standing before a frightening-looking gargoyle. It let them past after receiving the password, 'Lemon Drops', from Professor McGonagall. For a brief moment she wondered about the sanity of the Headmaster, "what type of headmaster would use the name of a Muggle sweet as a password to his office". Then her mind was swept away by the spiral stairway that moved on its own accord as they stepped on it, depositing them at the top of the stairs outside an ornate wooden door. The life here would definitely be more interesting than the one back at home, she thought, not without a pang of sadness at the reminder of her old home, but also with some excitement at the thought of living in a castle where huge displays of magic were such commonplace.

"Minerva, Miss Drae, do come in," it was Dumbledore's voice from behind the door. She was once again amazed, that Dumbledore knew who was outside his door even without their announcing.

She followed Professor McGonagall into the room and stood respectfully in front of the headmaster until he waved at a comfortable looking plush chair and got her to take a seat. She looked around the room, eyes captivated by the multitude of magical items that decorated the room. She recognized a few, foe glasses, a penseive left on the table, two-way mirrors, but mostly there were objects that she had never seen or heard of before. Curiosity ate away at her and given the opportunity, she could spend days exploring all the contents of Professor Dumbledore's office. Speaking of him,

"Miss Drae," he tried to get her attention. She blushed slightly at the thought that she must have looked like an ignorant child, gazing open-mouthed at the unknown magical objects no doubt familiar to him. She turned to look at him, and saw that he was looking at her with a bemused expression on his face. His eyes twinkled kindly at her over his half-moon spectacles, holding no judgment nor annoyance. She immediately liked him.

"We know that you have no relatives, is there anywhere you could go to?" She shook her head. "In that case, we would like you to remain in Hogwarts, and if you do not mind, you could attend school here. You are in your 6th year, am I right?"

She smiled and nodded. He had just offered her what she was going to ask him for, admission to the school. She could not wait for the school term to start, and more specifically, she could not wait to start learning more about Defense of the Dark Arts. That was just the knowledge she needed to exact revenge for her parents. Her parents had spoken highly of Hogwarts and she was looking forward to the education she would receive.

"You would be sorted in front of the school after the First Years at the Opening Feast," Professor Dumbledore continued. After sorting out a few other administrative details, she was free to go.


	3. Making Plans

A/N; Harry Potter and the characters and the castle and the whole idea about a magical school and basically almost everything are not mine. I'm just writing the story for fun, not sure how long I would continue this though, so please review! I might write more if people actually enjoy reading my story, just saying =)

**Lera's POV**

"_Hurry up!"_

"_Tonks! Over here!"_

"_Aguamenti!"_

"_Whose house is this?"_

"_Auror Shacklebolt, the fire! It's not going out!"_

"_It's Astin and Parissa Drae's!"_

"_It's too late! They must already be dead!"_

_The voices and shouts mingled together until she could not distinguish clearly what each person said. Everything was a blur, commotion and chaos reigned. The Aurors were trying their best to put out the fire but the gushes of water directed at the house were doing nothing in stopping the fire. Everywhere she looked, people were running around, shouting orders, casting spells, worry etched on some faces, fury on others. With a loud creaking sound, the roof sagged down, then with a resounding boom, the house collapsed into itself. It was quite some time before the fire died down, only after it had consumed everything in its path, leaving behind just a dark circle of burnt ground and cinders that were once her house. _

"_We're sorry,"_

"_We tried our best,"_

_Several other voices joined in, apologizing, trying to comfort her. Then, the 'pop' sounds of apparition, as the Aurors left to report to the Ministry._

_She looked up at the sky, at the hovering Dark Mark, and it suddenly seemed to expand in the sky, till it was all she could see. The snake slithered out of the skull's mouth and fixed its gaze on her, malevolence shining in its beady black eyes. It slithered towards her slowly, and she tried to turn away, tried to run, tried to escape from its evil stare, but found that she could not. Her body felt like stone, her eyes continued staring into the depths of the snake's eyes, panic and fear washing over her like an unstoppable wave. She screamed within her mind, desperate to turn away from the eyes of death, but there was nothing she could do. She looked on, enraptured, and now the snake was merely a foot away. It hissed menacingly, and a forked tongue flickered out, as if tasting the air, relishing her fear. It opened its mouth, fangs glinting with a green glow, and a drop of venom fell to the ground. Its head was as large as her own, its mouth bottomless, a dark abyss lay beyond its fangs, ready to swallow her up and cast her into oblivion. Then without warning, as fast as lightning, the snake struck out at her._

She jerked awake, heart pounding fiercely, cold sweat mingling with the tears that had run down her cheek. Her legs were tangled in her bedcovers, her pillow flung away from her bed, lying on the cold stone floor; she had struggled much throughout the night. There was a sharp pain in her palms, and she knew without looking at it that it was from the cuts where her nails had dug into her palms. This was not the first time. She reached for her wand on her bedside table, her hands shaky, almost dropping her wand. She managed to choke out a 'Lumos', and felt slightly relieved as light flooded the room. The clock told her that it was five in the morning. She looked away, it was useless trying to sleep again, and looked down, staring at the moon-shaped cuts on her palms. Immense hatred burned through her veins as tears pooled in her eyes and fell down her face to fall on her open palms, a stinging sensation felt each time a tear met an open wound.

"They would pay," she vowed, "Yes. They would pay for all the pain they have caused."

A glance at the clock informed her that she had been lost in her thoughts for about an hour, so she got up and threw open the curtains. The sun was just rising, bathing the field outside her window in a golden glow. Light glinted off the surface of the lake, fine ripples dancing across as a breeze blew past. Birds flitted across the sky, carefree, chasing each other, sometimes swooping down to grab a bug flying above the long grass. It was a cheerful scene, one in direct conflict with the inner turmoil she was experiencing. She felt disconnected from the world, which was going on as per normal, heedless of the pain and suffering that blanketed the British community…

But enough about that. She mentally shook her head to clear her mind of such dark thoughts.

Today was an exciting day, it was the day of the Opening Feast. She was excited to open the new chapter of her life, for she had spent most of the past 16 years of her life in her home, with little contact with the outside world, and even less contact with those of her same age. Her only companions were the house elves, her parents, the tutors they sometimes hired for her, and recently, her pet golden retriever. While she loved all of them dearly, except for her stuffy tutors whom she nevertheless respected, in the past, she could not help wishing that she had the opportunity to make friends with other teenagers. The only times when she could talk to people her own age where during charity dinners or social parties that her family was often invited to. But while this prospect undoubtedly held much attraction to her, what she was most excited for was to start on her studies. She mentally winced at the way it made her sound like a bookworm, something she had once looked down upon, but justified to herself that she had a motivation few others had. She was not studying merely for the sake of learning, or because there was nothing else she could do, she was gaining practical knowledge to use against the Dark side, she was working hard so that her parents are avenged and would be able to rest in peace.

Or at least she hoped that Hogwarts would prepare her enough to make a difference in the upcoming war. Her father had often told her about the deteriorating standards of the education in Hogwarts, especially in the area of Defense Against the Dark Arts, which he had thought was of paramount importance. That was the reason he insisted that she was home-schooled, he felt that he would be able to do a better job preparing her for the real world. The previous year was more than enough evidence for this. Instead of believing Harry Potter and Professor Dumbledore that Voldemort had returned and helping the wizarding community protect themselves and prepare for the battle that was sure to come, the Ministry had spent the whole year trying to make them look like an attention-seeking brat and senile fool. An entire year of Defense had been lost to memorizing textbooks and listening to that joke of a teacher Umbridge. She, on the other hand, had undergone an intensive training under the watchful eyes of her father, learning about both offensive and defensive spells that could make the difference between life and death in a real duel. Of course, she had also been taught other topics, covering both the required syllabus, as well as ways in which the knowledge can be integrated into dueling. Her father was a Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms expert, her mother had a talent in Potions and Ancient Runes; between them and the tutors she had in Arithmancy and Transfiguration, she had received an education as fine as any could be.

"At least I can self-study if the teachers are useless again," she told herself. Though she had little hope of the teachers being of much help, the library in Hogwarts would be an invaluable resource; she expected it to contain an extensive selection of books and manuals. If they proved to be inadequate, she could send an owl to Gringotts to retrieve a select few books from the Drae family vault. It was fortunate that her father had the foresight to store the rare manuscripts in their family vault rather than in their home. As for hands-on practice, her father had told her of a special room in Hogwarts, called the Room of Requirement, and as its name suggested, would provide her with anything she needed. She smiled to herself in pride, there was little her father did not know about, with his extensive network of contacts and information passed down through generations of the Drae family. It was no wonder that Voldemort had tried once and again to gain the support of her family. Yet to no avail. Her family had always been, and still was, firmly on the light side. It was obvious that once Voldemort had realized that they would never turn over to the dark side, he had them killed to deprive the light side of a powerful ally. He had managed to kill her parents, but by a stroke of luck, she had gone out on that day and had thus escaped death.

"Well," she smirked, "He had angered the wrong family this time."

With that thought firmly in mind, she set off to pack her belongings into a bag. When the night ended, she would be sleeping in a different place. There wasn't much to pack and she soon cleared up the room. With much time to spare before the other students returned, she got up to walk around the empty grounds for one final time. Soon, the castle would be hustling and bustling with activity and she would no longer have the chance to walk in silence.


	4. Pretense

A/N; And now, from the eyes of Draco Malfoy. I've decided that I would follow the Half-Blood Prince to a certain degree, just with a different focus, a new character, and thus new scenes. Disclaimer: Harry Potter is still J.K Rowling's. Do review, it would mean A LOT to me!

**Draco's POV**

He had sat in the train for about an hour or so before people started streaming in through the pillar that separated their world from the Muggles'. Though he was already at Hogwarts and could remain there, having no need to travel to and fro again, he had requested not to. Snape had agreed to let him take the train back to school with the rest of his schoolmates without hesitation. He could understand the reasons behind Draco's decisions. No one had ever missed the train ride to Hogwarts on that day of the Opening Feast, after all, no one had ever remained in school during the summer holidays. An exception had been made for Draco, considering his circumstances, and those circumstances were exactly what Draco had sought to forget. Or at least try to let others forget about it; his father being arrested for being a Death Eater was one huge blow to his family name. He had hoped that the holidays would allow the memory of his father's arrest to fade in the minds of his schoolmates. Once word spreads about him spending his holidays in Hogwarts, he knew that it would be almost impossible for them not to be reminded about that embarrassing incident. For once, he wished not to stand out.

In just a few minutes, the deathly quiet platform had been transformed into noisy chaos. Every nook and cranny was filled up, parents sending their little First Years off with a teary note, friends hugging each other, excited at the reunion, siblings shoving each other around, mothers shouting out last words of advice. He looked on in mild interest; he had never been on this side of the train before, looking on as a spectator, this time, not a participant. It wasn't long before the train started filling up, students chattering excitedly, looking forward to a new year at school. Some walked past his carriage in search of their own. He could hear the sudden pause in footsteps and laughter as they caught sight of him, before they rushed off hurriedly, no doubt whispering behind their hands about him. Face still looking out of the window, he did not bother looking at his gossipers. He sighed, it was probably too much to ask for them to forget what he wanted to erase from his memory.

Soon his own carriage began to fill up, Pansy Parkinson came first, then Crabbe and Goyle, and finally Zabini. They began making small talk about their holidays, and Draco sat by, listening in uninterestedly. At least his friends knew not to raise the issue. He was still respected and feared amongst the ranks of the junior Death Eaters and fellow Slytherins.

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted as the door of the compartment slid open and a breathless third-year girl stepped in. "Professor Slughorn wanted me to deliver this to Blaise Zabini," she managed to squeak out, eyes shyly cast to the ground. The moment she was relieved of the parchment she held in her hands, she stumbled out, glad to get away from the 'Slytherin bullies' compartment' unscathed.

Draco looked at the scroll of parchment tied with a violet ribbon with mild interest as Zabini unrolled it to reveal the message:

'Blaise,

I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C.

Sincerely, Professor H.E.F. Slughorn'

Slughorn, Draco scoffed. He knew who Slughorn was, the teacher who loved collecting connections to famous or powerful icons in the wizarding community. His own father had used to be somewhat of a favourite of his. A part of him felt glad that he had not been invited; spending the journey mingling with 'important' figures and listening to Slughorn reminisce about his old students was the last thing he wanted to do. Yet another part of him felt annoyance that Slughorn had left him out of this exclusive session. Lucius had single-handedly caused the downfall of the Malfoy family by being caught. Trying to appear indifferent, he leaned back and propped up his feet on the empty seat opposite, closing his eyes. Listening to the simpering Parkinson or attempting to talk to the two lumbering blocks of wood, Crabbe and Goyle, was of no interest to him. His mind drifted off, and he suddenly found himself thinking of the girl. He wondered who she was; he was sure that he had never seen her before in Hogwarts. If he had, he would have remembered her for she would be one of the rare beauties in the school. Her face, her eyes, her smile…they were unforgettable. He wondered what she was doing in Hogwarts, appearing out of the blue. Ah well, all would be revealed at the feast tonight.

It was almost dark when Zabini finally got back to the carriage, and he turned towards him lazily as the compartment door slid open, only to witness Zabini's failed attempt at closing the door.

"What's wrong with this thing?," he exclaimed angrily, still trying to pull the door close. Then a remarkable thing happened. The door suddenly flew open, and Zabini, hand still holding onto the handle, toppled over sideways into Goyle's lap. Frowning, Draco's confusion was soon cleared as he caught sight of a trainer whip up to the luggage rack before becoming invisible once again. Potter. They were no longer alone in the carriage. A plan started to form in his head and he sniggered as Goyle slammed the door shut and threw Zabini off him, who returned to his seat looking rather ruffled.

"So, Zabini, what did Slughorn want?," he was actually slightly curious.

"Just trying to make up to well-connected people, not that he managed to find many," he replied, still glowering at Goyle. Draco smirked, Zabini really was clueless that it was someone else who had caused the trouble.

"Who else was invited? Potter, I would expect. McLaggen? His uncle is big in the Ministry," he continued probing.

"Yes. Someone called Belby from Ravenclaw, he was soon cast out when Slughorn realised that he wasn't close to his uncle," Zabini sneered. "Oh, and Longbottom. That Weasley girl as well."

"_Longbottom_?" Draco could not help but exclaim. To think that Slughorn had invited Longbottom and not _him_. Zabini shrugged.

"Why that Weasley girl? What's so special about her anyway?" He wondered aloud.

"A lot of boys like her, even Blaise thinks she's good-looking, don't you? And we all know you are so hard to please!" Parkinson piped in.

"I wouldn't touch a filthy little blood traitor like her whatever she looked like," Zabini replied coldy. Parkinson looked pleased and turned back to her Witch's Weekly magazine.

"Who cares about Slughorn and his stupid club, I wouldn't want to be a part of it anyway," Draco cast his eyes out of the window in mock indifference, it was time to let information slip. "I mean, I have bigger and better things to care about."

There was a slight pause and from the reflection on the window, he could see Crabbe and Goyle gawping at him, Zabini looked at him curiously, and Parkinson looked dumbfounded.

"Do you mean…_him_?"

"Perhaps."

He forced a look of mystery and smugness onto his face, as if he had been chosen to complete a secret mission that only he could know about, and that he was nothing but honored to do the bidding of the Dark Lord. He quenched the feeling of horror and helplessness that arose in him at the thought of his task.

Zabini looked jealous, "What can you do for him? You're only sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet," he asked scathingly.

He wouldn't reply him. Raising the suspicion of Potter and letting the light side know something was going on was risky enough. Furthermore, the consequences of failing in his mission would be unthinkable, especially if it seemed like the light side was fully aware of it. He just hoped that this bit of confirmation that he would be involved in some dark activities would allow Dumbledore to make adequate preparations to prevent even more deaths from occurring when the Death Eaters were brought into the school. Given the chance, they would kill everyone in their sight until they were stopped. It was one thing he could not agree with. Innocent deaths.

"I can see Hogwarts," he pointed out of the blackened window, "we'd better get our robes on."

They pulled on their robes and fastened their travelling cloaks around their necks as the train slowed to a crawl, then jerked to a stop. Goyle threw the door open and muscled his way out into a crowd of second-years, shoving them aside; Crabbe and Zabini followed. Parkinson was waiting for him with her hand held out, as though hoping that he would hold it. No chance of that happening, Draco thought.

"You go ahead, I want to check something first," he told her. He knew just what he wanted to do. Not wanting to be on the dark side did not mean that he could not cause Potter some pain. Plus, it helped keep up with pretenses.

He moved over to the compartment door and let down the blinds so no one passing by could see in, then bent down over and opened his trunk again. He could feel Potter's eyes following his every move. Without warning, he pointed his wand at the luggage rack.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

He watched in satisfaction as Potter toppled out of the luggage rack and fell with a crash at his feet, looking pretty ridiculous with his legs still curled in the cramped kneeling position. He smiled broadly.

"Ever heard the phrase, curiosity kills the cat?" he asked jubilantly, he twirled his wand in his hand, leaning against the door.

He walked up to Potter and crouched down, head cocked to one side, staring into the eyes that glinted with hate. If looks could kill… He curled his hand into a fist, then punched Potter's face, hard. His lips curled up into a smile as he heard the bone on Potter's nose break, and blood spurted everywhere. Casting a quick 'Scourgify' to clean his clothes of any traces of blood, he stood up and wordlessly left the compartment. Someone would find Potter when they came to do a last checkup on the train. Meanwhile, he had some boasting to do.


	5. The Sorting

A/N; Harry Potter is not mine. Neither is Draco. But Lera is =D Please review!

**Lera's POV**

"There you are, Miss Drae, it's time to go in. The other students would be arriving shortly after."

It was Professor McGonagall. Lera had been staring out at the Great Lake, waiting for time to pass. Water met darkening sky a distance away, merging royal blue with a grayish blue. She got to her feet and silently trailed behind Professor McGonagall as she led her to the holding chambers close to the Great Hall. The First Years would be brought there before the Sorting commenced.

It was not long before Professor McGonagall reentered with the scared-looking First Years close behind, nervously chattering amongst themselves. They looked at her with ill-concealed surprise, wondering what an older student was doing in there. The chatter died down as Professor McGonagall started to speak.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room."

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each and every one of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you, please wait quietly."

She left the chamber and the First-years started chattering again. She could hear snippets of their conversations, apparently many an older sibling had found it amusing to tell them horror stories about sorting, having to kill a troll, use spells, duel each other, and the like. She shook her head and left them to their musings. Though she knew what the Sorting entailed, she was not about to enlighten the First-years.

"The Sorting ceremony is about to start," said a sharp voice.

Professor McGonagall had returned.

"Form a line, and follow me."

The First years quietly complied and she got in line behind them. Professor McGonagall led them out of the chamber, back across the hall and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall. The Hall looked different, now that the students were back. While there used to be a single table stretching across the centre of the hall, there were now four long tables where the other students were sitting. She had seen the hall before, so it did not affect her but the First-years were open-mouthed with amazement. At the top of the hall was a long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led them up here, and they came to a halt facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. She shifted uncomfortably, as all eyes were directed at her and the hall broke out in whispers as everyone came up with their own theories regarding the new student. She felt apprehensive, she had never been subject to the attention of such a great number of people before.

Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the line of First-years. On top of the stool she put an old pointed wizards' hat. The first-years stared confusedly at the hat, and a few jumped in shock as the hat twitched, then burst out in song. She did not hear what the hat sang, she was too busy fighting her nerves as she looked out to the sea of faces. Applause signaled the end of the song as the hat bowed to each of the four tables and became silent again. The first-years sighed in relief as they realised that they only had to try on the hat to be sorted.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward with a long roll of parchment clutched in her hands.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted."

With that, the Sorting began. It was almost torture having to stand by in front of the whole Hall of students waiting for every first-year was sorted. It was going on painfully slowly and she hoped that she had been allowed to go first. She had resorted to looking down at her feet to avoid the stares directed at her but she could still feel their eyes burning into her.

"And now we have a new student. She used to be homeschooled but would now be attending Hogwarts, in her sixth year. We hope that whichever house she is sorted into would give her a warm welcome. DRAE, KYLERA."

Finally, it was her turn. She tried not to appear over-eager as she walked to the stool, picked up the hat, sat down, and deposited the hat on her head. There was a strange feeling, as if someone was looking through every memory and thought in her mind.

"You have a lot going on in your head," suddenly a deep voice filled her head. "I see a desire for revenge, I see plans to reach your goal, well thought out. Cunning. You do know which house you belong in, don't you?"

Yes, she knew. Slytherin.

But there was only one house she wanted to be sorted into, and that was Gryffindor. She made a silent plea to the hat.

"If you are sure, then," she could almost imagine the hat giving a helpless shrug. "You would best be placed in

GRYFFINDOR!"

The last word was shouted out to the entire hall, and one of the tables promptly broke out in cheers and applause. She thought she could hear some groans and sighs coming from the other tables. She hurriedly got off and walked to the Gryffindor table, grateful that the hat had respected her decision. She was worried that the hat would insist on placing her in the house that she really belonged in.

Several guys called out to her and gestured to empty seats beside or opposite them but she politely declined. There was a certain group she wanted to sit with. She finally spotted them near the end of the table and sank into an empty seat next to a red-haired boy she assumed was Ron Weasley. This was the group that was always on the front lines of any action; it would be a good choice to befriend them. But there was someone missing from their group, she wondered where Harry Potter was. She put it to the back of her mind as the bushy haired witch sitting opposite to Ron smiled brightly at her and extended her hand with a cheerful 'Hi, I'm Hermione. I'm one of the sixth-year prefects, you can look for me if you have any problems.'

She smiled back and shook her hand, introducing herself though it was clear everyone knew who she was. Food had already appeared on the plates and Ron started piling food onto his plate, then shoving it into his mouth just as quickly. With a sudden yelp and glare at Hermione, which probably meant that she had given him a kick under the table, he turned to Lera and through a large mouthful of mashed potatoes, managed to convey that he was Ron and was also a sixth year. She nodded and helped herself to some potatoes as well, oblivious to the blatant stares of the male student body as well as the jealous glares of the female population. A few others sitting around her also introduced themselves. There was Neville, Ginny, Dean and Seamus.

"I wonder where Harry is," Hermione said, her brows furrowed.

"Probably got caught by Snape for something silly," Neville suggested. "See, Snape's missing as well."

Hermione nodded. That was probable. She just hoped that he had not gotten into trouble before the first day of school had even started.

Hermione was holding onto a magazine titled _Defense Monthly_, and she turned back to the open page, absently picking at her food. Suddenly, it seemed as though she had found a very interesting article as her eyes scanned the pages quickly and her food lay in the plate, forgotten. Lera could guess which article it was, she had read the magazine a few days before and one article had stood out.

"Look! They're working on a new spell! They say that it's supposed to be one that defends specifically against dark spells," She pointed at the article and pushed it in front of Ron's face.

She had caught him just as he was about to place a forkful of steak into his mouth. His fork hovering in midair and his mouth open, he looked confusedly at Hermione as she stared back at him expectantly, brimming with excitement at her discovery.

"So?" With that done, he devoured the piece of meat.

Hermione gave an exasperated sigh. She debated within herself if she should even bother explaining the potential uses of the spell if it could be formulated.

"That means that when fighting against Death Eaters we would have an added layer of protection because they usually use dark spells that we don't learn about. And because we don't know about those spells, we don't know how to deflect them or shield ourselves against them. Normal shields like Protego would essentially be useless against the powerful dark spells that they use. If this spell works, we can protect ourselves against most dark spells without having to conduct extensive research on each and every dark spell that the Death Eaters use, and the specific ways to counter them."

Hermione turned to Lera in surprise. But she was not done yet.

"Is that the article that discussed the integration of Defense with other disciplines like Ancient Runes? It's a wonderful idea to draw upon external magical sources from the surroundings to boost our own spells, don't you think? With just some preparation before the actual duel, we can get a huge edge over our opponents."

Hermione looked like she was about the hug her any moment. And they were soon lost in a conversation on the benefits, limitations, and potential problems of using runes in dueling. Lera smiled to herself. Mission one, accomplished. She was now firmly in Hermione's good books.

BANG!

Their conversation was interrupted as the doors banged open. Every head in the Great Hall turned.


	6. Junior Death Eater

A/N; I do not own Harry Potter and everything that is from the Harry Potter books. Enjoy, and review please, thanks a lot!

**Draco's POV**

He had kept his eyes fixed on her for the entirety of the Sorting ceremony. The song the Sorting hat sang did not interest him in the slightest, neither did the first-years and the houses they were sorted into. Her, on the other hand, interested him greatly, for reasons even he could not explain. He tried telling himself it was only because she had appeared out of nowhere, and no one knew of her background. But he knew that was not all. There was something else that drew him in like no other did. It could be the vulnerability she had let through as he sat by her during the nights in the Astronomy Tower, yet pulling herself together and presenting a strong front when others were around. It could be the way her presence comforted him, the way it seemed like she was the only one who knew him, who cared for him. It could be the way she blushed prettily and bit her lip nervously, keeping her eyes downcast as she stood before the whole school. He did not know.

When it was her turn to be sorted, he listened intently as McGonagall introduced her to the school.

"DRAE, KYLERA!"

His mind kicked into overdrive. The Draes were a very old and respected family, Astin and Parissa Drae were widely known to be a pair of very powerful and talented purebloods. Voldemort had tried several times to recruit them into his Inner Circle but had failed each time. After losing several Death Eaters who had been sent to convince them, Voldemort had finally given up and sent his Death Eaters to get rid of them. It had taken twelve of his fully trained Death Eaters, but they were at last killed and their house set on fire. It had been a large display of power for Voldemort, and was soon a hot topic of hushed conversations after the story appeared on the headlines of the Daily Prophet the next day. There had been, however, no mention of a daughter of the Draes. That must have been the work of Dumbledore, not wanting a distraught Kylera Drae to be subject to the hounding of the bloodthirsty reporters. He realised now why she had been in so much pain. He felt an overpowering sense of guilt that he was associated with those who had caused her such hurt. He hoped that she was sorted into Slytherin. Perhaps he could make it up to her, perhaps he could befriend her and help lessen her pain. His wishes fell on deaf ears as the hat shouted,

"GRYFFINDOR!"

She broke into a smile and her face visibly lightened up, obviously happy with the hat's decision. Several seventh years sitting around him groaned at the loss. Nott was more vocal about his disappointment and Draco felt a wave of irritation at his slanderous comments.

"Shut up," he snapped. The Slytherins looked at him in shock. "She's a Gryffindork, why would you be disappointed that she isn't in Slytherin," he continued weakly. It seemed enough to placate them as they turned back to their own conversation and ignored him. His eyes followed her as she walked past several guys who tried to get her to sit with them, finally settling in next to Weasley. Her choice was obviously deliberate. Lost in his thoughts, he was startled when he felt a hand tugging on his sleeve.

"Did you hear anything I said?" Parkinson asked him, annoyance evident in her tone.

"No." He replied her coldly.

She pouted and adopted a hurt expression. He turned back to his untouched food. He really could not bring himself to care.

Before she could say anything else, a loud BANG reverberated around the hall as the doors were thrown open. In walked an irate-looking Snape, cloak billowing dramatically behind him. But it was the person following behind who commanded the attention of those in the hall. Potter.

Whispers of the Chosen One and the fight in the Department of Mysteries broke out all over the hall. Then people started noticing his bloody face and soon everyone was talking about the apparent duel Potter had just had with 'two, no, five, wait no, ten!' Death Eaters.

Draco laughed. He would have much fun disabusing them of this notion. He leaned back in his chair and began to tell his story.

**Lera's POV**

Harry's eyes searched the Gryffindor table for his friends, and he visibly relaxed when he finally saw them. His face red with embarrassment, he all but ran over to them, gratefully slipping into a chair next to Hermione.

Hermione gasped as she saw his broken nose.

"What happened?" She almost shrieked at him.

"Malfoy," Harry muttered under his breath, as though that was explanation enough. It probably was, given the looks of understanding that appeared on Ron's and Hermione's faces.

"Reparo, Scourgify," Hermione quickly fixed Harry's nose and cleaned up the blood.

Malfoy, she recognized that name. The family was from a long line of purebloods and every one of them was known to be staunch supporters of the dark side. Lucius Malfoy had recently been convicted as a Death Eater. This one they were talking about must be his only son, Draco Malfoy.

"Draco Malfoy? He's in, what…? Sixth year?" she inquired.

Harry looked at her, surprised, as if noticing her for the first time. Hermione whispered to him, ostensibly explaining her existence while Ron launched into a tirade about Malfoy, calling him a "junior Death Eater", before finally getting distracted by a bowl of pudding which had appeared on the table.

She did not know much about him but she already hated him. Junior Death Eater…

They soon finished with their food and got up to walk to the Gryffindor common room.

"Lera, you can come with me. I think you'll be sleeping together with us in the sixth year dormitory. There's me, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, …" Hermione began chatting with her happily as she listened, asking questions once in a while.

Suddenly, a voice rang out behind them, "So tell me, did it hurt when your face got stamped on? Or… Did it hurt more when you saw that mutt of a godfather die in front of your eyes? Hmmm, I don't think I've congratulated my Aunt Bella for that yet."

She froze. She knew he was talking about Sirius Black, the wrongly-accused mass murderer, godfather of Harry, the only parental figure Harry has had since his own parents had died when he was one. It was a little known fact that Sirius had been killed in the battle the previous year but her father had told her about it. This jab cut too close to her own life. She had just lost my parents, and here was someone making fun of Harry's godfather dying.

She turned around, and saw that beside her, Harry's fists were clenched, his nails almost digging into the flesh of his palm. He was doing all he could to stop himself from beating the offender into a bloody pulp. She looked at the person who uttered those despicable words, and her heart almost stopped. She felt breathless, like she was about to faint any moment. Because there stood the boy who had been sitting with her every night in the astronomy tower, behind him standing a few other Slytherins, who laughed at his statement. There was something different about him, and with no small amount of surprise she realised that it was because his face was set into a sneer, his eyes cold and mocking, his head inclined at an angle, defiant, challenging. He did not pay any attention to her, as if they were strangers who had never met before.

Ron had pulled out his wand and was shouting at him, and Hermione was frantically pushing down his wand, no doubt trying to avoid trouble.

She felt a need to stand up for Harry and she ground out, "That's because she's in Azkaban, where she belongs. Perhaps you could have a little reunion with her there someday. Feel free to take your time there, no one would miss you anyway."

To her surprise, Draco completely ignored her and did not even acknowledge her words, instead choosing to brush past her without a second glance.

The Slytherins cast one last disdainful glance at them and pushed past them on the way to the dungeons. Lera was stunned, and for the entirety of the time it took to walk to the Gryffindor common room she said nothing. Harry was still pale with fury and Ron was venting his frustrations on the young ones who had the misfortune of being in his way, snarling at a group of second-years for 'walking too slowly and blocking the way'. A particularly shy-looking girl burst out in prompt tears, earning Ron a disapproving glare from Hermione.

In truth, she was hurt. Even though he had never talked to her nor shown any inclination of wanting to be her friend, she had begun thinking of him as hers. She had thought that there was a kind of silent understanding and empathy between them, and now the way he acted showed that he treated her like she was nothing, someone not even worthy of being noticed. But most of all she could not reconcile the fact that the vulnerable boy who showed her concern on that first night was the same boy who showed such cruelty to Harry, who was obviously still distraught over the death of his godfather. It was all too confusing.

"Malfoy! That… that…idiot!"

She tuned back into the conversation only to hear Hermione utter this statement. Three people stared at Hermione incredulously. Two of which due to the reason that Hermione had cursed Malfoy. The last of which was Lera.

"_He_ is Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes," Harry replied darkly, hatred dripping from his words.

She had deduced from the… conversation, for lack of a better word… that he was related to Bellatrix Lestrange, yet another Death Eater that had been captured, but she had no idea that he was the Malfoy she had heard so much of. Well, at least that explained his hatred for Harry.

That night she lay awake, thinking. She wondered if she should feel pity for Draco; he was obviously facing some really big problems. Yet his actions were unforgiveable. After a long night, she finally reached a decision. No matter what problems he had, regardless of the vulnerable side he had shown her, he was an enemy. After all, he was a _junior Death Eater_.


	7. First Day

A/N; Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me. Absolutely not. Read, enjoy, and review!

**Draco's POV**

He saw Potter and his friends get up and walk towards the entrance of the hall, Granger chatting endlessly with Lera. He felt a twinge of annoyance and sadness that she had made fast friends with them. Befriending her was now definitely out of the question. He quickly got up and followed behind them, his entourage of fellow Slytherins trailing closely behind. He wasn't about to miss out on an opportunity to torture Potter even further.

The Golden Trio had barely walked a few steps out of the hall when Draco called out to them.

"So tell me, did it hurt when your face got stamped on? Or… Did it hurt more when you saw that mutt of a godfather die in front of your eyes? Hmmm, I don't think I've congratulated my Aunt Bella for that yet."

Her smirked as all four of them stopped in their tracks and turned back to face him. Weasley had whipped out his wand and now had it pointed at his face. The only thing stopping Weasley from cursing him was Granger's hand on his arm, trying to force it down. Potter had paled considerably and his lips were pressed thin with fury, hands curled into fists beside his body. A sense of satisfaction filled him, until a quick glance at Lera made him regret his words immediately. She was staring at him in open-mouthed shock, her expression a mix of rage and deep hurt. He mentally kicked himself for mentioning the death of Potter's godfather. It was tantamount to gloating at the death of Lera's parents. But it was too late to withdraw his words.

"That's because she's in Azkaban, where she belongs. Perhaps you could have a little reunion with her there someday. Feel free to take your time there, no one would miss you anyway."

Her words were cutting, but what was worse was the hatred dripping in her voice as she uttered each word, anger flashing in her eyes. Not wanting to remain there any longer, he quickly stepped past them. He could feel four pairs of eyes burning into his back as he hurried away. This year was going to be harder than he thought it would be. He was fine with hurting Potter, Granger, or Weasley. It was Lera he could not bear to harm.

It did not occur to him that he was showing an unprecedented concern for another being's feelings until late that night. He tossed and turned for the entire night, unable to erase Lera's words and expression etched in his mind.

**Lera's POV**

The next day dawned early and bright. Though she had not slept a wink the past night, she was feeling awake and ready for the first day of lessons.

She followed Hermione down the stairs into the common room, where Harry and Ron sat waiting for them.

"Listen, I overheard something yesterday when I went to Malfoy's compartment," Harry lost no time in recounting his experience, as well as his thoughts on the subject.

"But he's just boasting for Parkinson's sake, isn't he? What could you-know-who want with him anyway?" Ron interjected, looking to Hermione expectantly, waiting for her to agree with him.

"Well…I don't know," Hermione said uncertainly. "It would be like Malfoy to make himself sound more important than he really is but…it still is a big lie to tell…"

"Maybe it's something that only Malfoy can do, something to do with his family, or something related to Hogwarts…" Lera voiced out her opinion.

"Exactly," Harry said, but could not press the point because people had started to crowd around, trying to listen in and whispering behind their hands.

"It's rude to point," Ron snapped at a particularly miniscule first-year as they joined the queue out of the portrait hole.

He squeaked in surprise and toppled out of the hole in alarm. Lera fought down a small giggle.

The ceiling of the Great Hall was serenely blue and streaked with frail, wispy clouds, just like the squares of sky visible through the high mullioned windows. As they tucked into porridge, eggs and bacon, a giant-sized man came up to them.

"Harry! Ron! Hermione! And our new student, Kylera! Great to meet you all, I've missed you all over the holidays. So did Buck—I mean, Witherwings."

"Hagrid!" The three of them seemed happy to see him.

"We've missed you too," Hermione continued, smiling sweetly at Hagrid.

"Yea, well, got to go prepare for my first lesson now, you'll be surprised to see what I have prepared for you. See you soon! Lesson's right after breakfast, first thing in the morning," he walked off, cheerfully whistling a tune.

Silent descended and the three of them adopted sheepish looks.

"You're not taking Care of Magical Creatures, are you?" Harry asked Ron.

Ron shook his head.

"Neither are you, right, Hermione?"

She shook her head too.

They all turned to Lera. Perhaps she was taking the subject. Their hearts sank even further as she, too, shook her head. They sighed in unison. Exactly what Hagrid would think when he realised his three favourite students had given up his subject, they did not like to think.

After they had eaten, they remained in their places, awaiting Professor McGonagall's descent from the staff table. She cleared the first through fifth-years before starting on the sixth-years. The distribution was more complicated than usual, for Professor McGonagall needed to confirm that everybody has achieved the necessary O.W.L grades to continue with their chosen N.E.W.T.s.

Hermione was cleared to continue with Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Herbology, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Potions. Harry and Ron were then cleared for their respective choices, barring a change as they were now able to take Potions. It was then Lera's turn and she felt slightly embarrassed as the three of them looked at her with open mouths as Professor McGonagall informed her that she could take anything she wanted to since she had received Outstandings for all her subjects. She settled on Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Potions. Then with slight hesitation, she decided to take Astronomy as well. The rest were subjects that would give help her with the battle against the dark. Astronomy, however, was a subject that she was rather interested in. She allowed herself to take this one subject for interest's sake.

She and Hermione rushed off to their first-period Ancient Runes class without further ado, reaching the classroom just as the professor arrived.

She soon found out that it was no fun sitting with Hermione. The lesson bored her for she had already learnt much of it before, and any attempts to talk to Hermione were met with a harsh 'shush' and a fierce glare. She picked up her quill and used the feather to tickle her cheek. She bit the tip of the quill. She stared out of the window at the clear blue sky beyond. Still, time passed agonizingly slowly.

An hour later, the lesson finally ended and she followed Hermione to the Defense classroom.

"We got so much homework for Runes," she complained, anxious. "I wonder if I can finish it on time!"

Lera tried to look equally pained. She would have no problems completing the work for there was nothing much new. Furthermore, she had already read the assigned book long ago.

They met up with Ron and Harry who were waiting outside the Defense classroom. The lesson passed without much incident. Though she was apprehensive of the lesson, having heard many horror stories of Snape, she was pleasantly surprised that he was quite a good teacher. It was one lesson she would be challenged in, she thought, as she tried to concentrate on casting a non-verbal disarming spell at Hermione. Half an hour later, Hermione managed to wordlessly cast a Jelly-legs jinx at Lera, and she, too, without uttering a word, deflected the spell. They beamed at each other, while Snape swept past, pretending that he had not noticed their accomplishment.

After the lesson, they packed up their bags and walked over to the door. The doorway was, unfortunately, blocked by Malfoy and a few of their cronies, who were laughing and showing no intention of getting out of the way. As they approached, Malfoy glanced over at them and raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.

Lera could stand his annoying smugness no longer and stalked out of the door, angrily shoving Malfoy out of the way as she passed. Caught off guard, he fell heavily against the door.

She was soon joined by Ron, who chortled merrily.

"Did you see his face? Hah!" he continued laughing. Even Hermione could not stop a smile from touching her lips, though she tried to look disapproving.

"Harry! Hey, Harry!"

Harry looked round; there was a boy running towards him, holding out a roll of parchment.

"Professor Dumbledore asked me to pass this to you," he said breathlessly. He hurried away as Harry took the message and opened it.

"It's from Dumbledore," he said, then read the message out aloud.

"Dear Harry, I would like to start our private lessons this Saturday. Kindly come to my office at eight p.m. I hope you are enjoying your first day at school. Yours sincerely, Albus Dumbledore. P.S. I enjoy Acid Pops."

"He enjoys Acid Pops?" Ron frowned perplexedly at the piece of parchment.

"It's the password to get past the gargoyles outside his office," Harry replied.

They retreated to the common room for their break and spent the whole time speculating on what Dumbledore would be doing with Harry during their extra lessons. They came to a conclusion that Dumbledore would be teaching Harry a variety of offensive and defensive spells that would be useful in a duel. Lera made a mental note to get Harry to teach her the spells. That settled, the bell rang and they got up to go for their double Potions class.


	8. Potions and Stars

**A/N; Harry Potter is not mine. **

Potions lessons started proper after Slughorn sorted out the problem with Harry and Ron not having any equipment or the required textbook for the course. He stood between four bubbling cauldrons, two on each side. Through observation, Lera could identify all four potions, and she glanced curiously at the molten golden liquid in a small black cauldron. Now, _that_ was interesting.

"Now then," said Slughorn, inflating his already bulging chest so that the buttons on his waistcoat threatened to burst off. "I've prepared for you a few potions to look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to have heard of them, even if you haven't made them yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?"

He gestured at a cauldron nearest to where the Slytherins were sitting, and Hermione's hand immediately shot into the air. Slughorn nodded at her.

"It's Veritserum, a colourless, odourless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth."

"Very good, very good!" Slughorn looked rather pleased.

"How about this?" He indicated the one to the right of him.

"It's Polyjuice Potion, sir. It causes the drinker to take on the appearance of someone else."

"Excellent!" Slughorn flashed her a smile, looking impressed.

"How about this?" Now the one to the left of him. "Perhaps we should let someone else try to answer," he said kindly as Hermione's hand hit the air again. She reluctantly put it down.

"Let's see, ahh… how about our new student? Miss Drae? Do you—"

"It's Amortentia, the most powerful love potion in the world." she said quietly.

"Indeed! It has a distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen, and is supposed to smell differently to each person according to what attracts them. Do feel free to take a whiff at it after the lesson."

"And now…" he paused dramatically. "Could you tell me what this is, Miss Drae?"

The golden potion splashed about merrily, a few droplets leaped like goldfish above the surface.

"Yes. It's Felix Felicis, more commonly known as liquid luck."

She could feel Hermione's gaze on her. Evidently she had been unable to identify the potion. Everyone else seemed to sit up a little straighter.

Slughorn beamed at her.

"Quite right! Take 20 points for your answers, Miss…" "Granger, Hermione Granger." "…Granger, and Miss Drae."

The class asked several more questions about the golden liquid and Slughorn answered them eagerly.

"And that, is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson."

There was a sudden silence in the room; every bubble and gurgle of the surrounding potions seemed extraordinarily loud.

"Yes, twelve hours of luck in a vial, so do hurry up and get to work. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should be time enough for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death, on page ten. The person who does best will win little Felix here. Off you go!"

There was a scraping as everyone quickly pulled their cauldrons towards themselves and stared intently at the instructions in the book. The concentration within the room was almost tangible. Lera felt confident that she would be able to do a good job. Potions were, after all, her forte. She hoped that she would be able to do the best, lord knows she needed a lucky day.

The potion was a colourful affair, shocking given that the end product was a boring black. Soon bluish fumes had filled the room. Her potion had started out a pale green, which had turned into a smooth, blackcurrant-coloured liquid, then a soft lilac, followed by the palest pink. The addition of one extra ingredient turned it an intense navy, and finally it settled at a black. She sat back, happy with the end result, looking around the room with several minutes to spare. To her surprise, she saw that Harry had already taken the potion off the fire, left it to cool, and packed his bag. He couldn't have already been done? Hermione was still frowning over her potion, which remained a stubborn dark grey.

"And time's up!" Slughorn called. "Stop stirring, please."

Everyone sat in their places, tense, as Slughorn moved slowly through the tables, first the Slytherin's, then the Ravenclaw's. He made no comment. At last he reached the Gryffindor table and smiled ruefully at the thick glob of goo at the bottom of Ron's cauldron. He gave an approving nod at Hermione's potion. Then at the same time, he saw both Lera's and Harry's potions, and a look of incredulous delight spread over his face.

"Amazing! Two students in my class, with perfect potions! I've never had more than one student brewing this potion successfully in all my years as a teacher! Good lord, this is excellent!" He seemed about to burst with excitement.

"But wait, there can only be one winner. Harry, I believe you completed your potion first. The bottle of Felix Felicis goes to you, then."

He turned to Lera and smiled kindly at her. "I'm sorry, my dear. Perhaps another time."

Ron was dumbfounded and kept bugging Harry to tell him the 'secret', which he refused to until they were securely ensconced at the Gryffindor table for dinner.

Hermione's face turned stonier with every word Harry uttered.

Lera, on the other hand, was in a better mood when she found out that it was not that Harry was better than her in potions; he just had some help. She thought it would be interesting to look at the tips written in the book some day. She made a mental note to ask Harry for the book. Of course, when Hermione was not around, judging from the look on her face.

Lera felt awkward as they walked back to the Gryffindor common room, for the three of them were walking along in tense silence and any attempt to break the ice would most probably not be welcomed.

Things did not get better for the rest of the week. Harry insisted on following the instructions in the book during his potions lessons and Ron stood firmly on his side. Hermione was strongly against it and though Harry offered to let her use the book, she was resolutely ploughing on with what she called the 'official' instructions, but became increasingly bad-tempered as they yielded poorer results than the Prince's.

She could not understand what the huge fuss was about the book. So far, she had not been required to take sides but she was afraid that one day that would change. She didn't think that there was anything wrong with using the book but did not want to contradict her newfound best friend. Thus she tactfully made herself scarce each time they raised the issue, which was actually quite easy now that her workload from the many courses she took was increasing.

Soon it was Friday night and she was lying sprawled on the rug in front of the fireplace, lost in a book on uncommon jinxes when Hermione said, "Lera, don't you have Astronomy now?"

She gasped. The clock hanging above the fireplace told her that she had five minutes to get to the Astronomy Tower before lessons started at eight. She couldn't believe that she had forgotten the time; she had been looking forward to the Astronomy lesson all week long! She grabbed the bag that lay next to her and rushed off, shouting a 'thanks' to Hermione as she crawled through the portrait hole.

It was fortunate that she knew the way and did not waste any time looking for the classroom as she barely got there in time, panting from the run. The front rows of seats were all occupied so she quickly slipped into a seat at the back of the class. Just seconds after, a Professor walked into the class, introducing herself as Professor Sinistra.

The class was made up of mostly Ravenclaws, with two Hufflepuffs and her as the only Gryffindor. She noted with interest that there were no Slytherins in the class. Correction, make that one, she thought as Malfoy walked in, with a "Sorry, Professor Sinistra. I was just talking to Professor Snape."

"No matter, Mr Malfoy. Take a seat."

Lera glanced around the classroom and saw that the only empty seat was next to her. She frowned. This did not bode well. Malfoy was walking towards her, having arrived at the same conclusion. She kept her eyes to the front, completely ignoring him as he pulled out the chair and sat down.

"Take out your books and turn to page 55, today we'll be starting to learn about Saturn's rings."

It seemed directed at her and Malfoy; everyone else already had their books in front of them, flipped open to the correct page.

She rummaged in her bag and with a sinking heart, realised that she had forgotten to pack her _Advanced Astronomy_ book into her bag. She sighed. Beside her, Malfoy had his book out in front of him but asking him to share his book with her would be the last thing she would do. She'd rather spend the lesson without one.

"Here, you can use mine," a book was pushed in front of her.

"Don't you need to use it?" She looked at Malfoy, too shocked to remember not to be nice.

He shrugged. "I've just read up on the topic. I can still remember most of it."

"But—" she was about to protest further but was stopped by a sharp voice.

"Miss Drae, Mr Malfoy, do try to pay attention."

She turned pink as the Ravenclaws fixed disapproving glares on them. She immediately stared down at the book, not wanting to meet their eyes. There were some annotations neatly squeezed along the columns of the pages, written in an elegant, slanted script. She found herself admiring the elegant handwriting before forcefully pushing the thoughts out of her head. _These are Malfoy's words!_

The lesson was interesting and she soon forgot that she was sitting beside the one person she hated in the whole school, as well as the little conversation that had taken place with Malfoy. That was until Professor Sinistra announced,

"For the practical aspect of N.E.W.T. level Astronomy, you would have to complete a project in pairs, which would be due in three months time. For this project, you would have the privilege of using a very special telescope to study the skies. There is, unfortunately, only one telescope available and as such, each pair would be allocated a different timeslot to use the telescope. As for the pairs, to make it easier, let's just say you work with the person you're sitting next to now."

It took a while before it finally hit her, and when it did, her eyes grew wide. She had to work with _Malfoy_ on this project. They had to spend time with each other, _alone_. She felt Malfoy's eyes on her but she resolutely stared straight ahead. When Professor Sinistra dismissed them for class, she left his book on the table, quickly swung her bag onto her shoulder and walked out of the door without a backward glance.


	9. When Sparks Fly

**9. When Sparks Fly**

**A/N; Harry Potter's not mine!**

"What?"

"I can't believe you have to work with _that_!"

"Can't you ask the professor for a change of partners?"

It was the next morning at breakfast and Lera had told them the bad news. As expected, a chorus of sympathetic and indignant voices had sounded. She stabbed savagely at a sausage.

"Well, it's not like anyone else would willingly take him off my hands, no one wants to work with that smug, think-he's-better-than-everyone-else, insufferable, evil, heartless idiot! All the Ravenclaws are paired up, so are the Hufflepuffs. It's just me and him that are left. It's not like I had a bloody choice!"

She wasn't exactly happy about the arrangement either. In fact, that was an understatement of the century. She was livid. She had been looking forward to taking the one course she was actually vastly interested in, and now it had to be ruined since she had to work with someone who was probably linked to her parents' deaths. She had gone to bed last night fuming, conveniently forgetting the fact that Malfoy had actually tried being nice to her. If she did not have more control over her emotions she would be throwing things all over the room.

The other three cast her pitying glances, helpless.

"Well, tell us if he gets too annoying, we'll help you teach him a lesson."

Ron cracked his knuckles threateningly. She gave him a grateful smile. There was no need for that, she could take care of him herself, but she still appreciated the offer.

The rest of the day passed without incident, with them catching up on their work and chatting, before Harry left for his special lessons with Dumbledore. They pounced on him as he came back, Lera more enthusiastically than anyone else, to ask him what Dumbledore had taught him. She was slightly disappointed that it did not have anything to do with forgotten spells and dueling techniques, but admitted that they were probably useful lessons, just maybe not so for her personally. She still listened on in interest as Harry recounted to them what he had seen in the pensieve.

Time passed quickly in a blur of lessons and study sessions and before long, it was Wednesday evening, which her and Malfoy's Astronomy slot was on. She was filled with a mix of emotions, a part of her could not wait to use the special telescope and work on the project, yet another part groaned that she had to see Malfoy. He had been quite quiet and unnoticeable for the past few days, uncharacteristic of him, according to the trio, who claimed that he usually went all out to make their lives miserable. Harry insisted that it was because Malfoy was up to something while Hermione cast doubtful glances at Harry as he made those accusations.

She did not have to bring anything with her as the parchment with the questions and incomplete charts were with Malfoy; Professor Sinistra had passed them to him on that day after she left.

She reached the top of the Astronomy Tower where the special telescope was now placed and saw that Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. She huffed impatiently. Apparently he had not deemed the session important enough to be on time for. A few more minutes had passed before he finally strolled in.

"Oh, so you finally decided to grace me with your presence! Some people actually have better ways to spend their time instead of waiting around for someone who doesn't even have the basic courtesy to turn up on time!" She immediately snapped at him.

She thought she saw a flicker of hurt in his eyes before it was quickly replaced by anger.

"And _some_ unreasonable people turn up early and think that everyone else is late." He sneered at her.

Well, he may be right. But she didn't care, he was a prospective Death Eater, so it meant that he was always at fault.

"I'm not going to waste my breath and time arguing with you. Just take out the instructions."

At the same time that she noticed that he had come up with both hands empty, he said flippantly, "Oh dear, it seems like I left it in my room. Guess you'll have to waste a few more of your precious minutes while I go get it."

She clenched her fists and fought the rage that rose up in her. She didn't usually have violent tendencies, but something about him made her want to slap him. Hard.

She walked out to the ramparts to wait for his return. The cold breeze and sounds of the night calmed her, but Malfoy's return put her on edge again. She snatched the papers out of his hand as he smirked at her, as though gloating at the fact that he had taken his time fetching the papers. She decided to ignore him, which was rather difficult considering that there was one set of charts, one telescope, and they were supposed to complete it together. Instead of working together, it seemed as though they were competing to see who could infuriate the other more, with him pulling the eyepiece away from her when she was trying to identify a speck in the sky and her refusing to let him write anything down on the papers. Not surprisingly, their session concluded with barely any work done.

She was finally saved from Malfoy's company when another pair arrived for their turn at the telescope and she could leave. She stormed all the way to the common room and climbing through the portrait hole, saw the trio near the fireplace. She went to them and fell heavily into an armchair. They looked at her curiously, as if asking her how it went. She threw a hand over her eyes dramatically and groaned. She was definitely NOT looking forward to the next session.

She sat next to Malfoy again during the next Astronomy lesson and she made it a point to treat him as though he was invisible. It was unfortunate that their seats had been fixed after the first lesson. She would have to spend the rest of the course sitting next to him. She cursed herself for not turning up earlier on the first lesson. If she had, she could have found a seat next to a friendly Hufflepuff or smart Ravenclaw. Then someone else could be stuck with that brat.

Saturday morning dawned bright and early, and for once, most of the house was awake when 8am came along. It was the day of Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts and everyone was either participating or supporting their friends. Harry was the captain while Ron was trying out for the Keeper position. Lera and Hermione decided to watch from the stands.

Hermione buried herself in her book, uninterested in the trials until Ron was up, while Lera watched in envy as the Gryffindors swooped around in the air. She loved flying and would have tried out for the team if she did not already have a busy schedule and more important things to do. Things like avenging her parents. At this, she felt a twinge of guilt. There had been so much going on in school that she had not been doing much to learn and practice new spells. She made a decision to wake up an hour earlier each morning and go for a run around the great lake to keep herself fit. Fitness was incredibly important in a duel, especially one in which the duelers were equally matched in skill. The one who had more stamina would usually emerge victorious in the end.

The Keeper trials came last and by that time, the crowd had grown larger and more boisterous. Hermione had given up on concentrating on her book and was now watching someone called Cormac McLaggen go through the trials. Hermione had told her that he was an arrogant prick and Lera did not know him personally so she had no comment towards that, but she had to admit that he was a great flyer. He had blocked four difficult attempts with relative ease and was facing the last shot.

"Confundo."

It was a bare whisper coming from beside her, but she heard it clearly. McLaggen shooting off in the opposite direction when the Qauffle flew towards him confirmed that a Confundus charm had been cast on him. Surprisingly, by Hermione. She raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who promptly turned pink and pretended to be absorbed in her book again. Lera almost laughed—unless Hermione had mastered the art of reading upside down, she was definitely not reading the book.

The crowd laughed and booed as McLaggen returned to the ground looking very unhappy indeed. Ron was up next and he looked like he was about to pass out as he mounted his Cleansweep Eleven.

It was several nerve-wracking minutes that followed, but eventually Ron emerged proud elated, with the title of Gryffindor Keeper.


	10. When Reality Hits

**10. When Reality Hits**

The trio had left for Hagrid's to make it up to him, something about reassuring the broken hearted half giant that they had no choice but to drop his class. Lera didn't follow them, she wasn't the one who hurt his feelings anyway. Besides, she had to go for Astronomy. With Malfoy.

As she glanced at the clock she sighed, unable to put it off any longer. With 5 minutes to spare, she unstuck herself from her bed, grabbed the papers, and left for the Tower. He was already there when she sauntered in about 2 minutes late. Surprisingly, he merely lifted an eyebrow and walked to the telescope. And thus began another long infuriating hour.

"So, how did it go with _Malfoy_?" Ron asked, making a face.

She thought back to what had happened about an hour ago.

"_Hey, I said let me write it!" She exclaimed angrily._

"_Why can't I write?" He sounded exasperated._

_She floundered for a while. "Because you have ugly handwriting." That was so not true. "And you'll just get it all wrong." That wasn't true either. Then again, she couldn't think of a good reason._

"_I got an O for the last test! I should be the one worried about _you_ getting it wrong." Yes, definitely exasperated. _

"_Well so did I!" She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down her nose at him. It was rather awkward a position, since she was significantly shorter than him._

"_Look, just give me the paper, you're being childish!" _

"_No I'm not!" _

_She pulled the parchment out from under his quill, and the quill tip drew a long black line across their work. _

"_Malfoy! See what you've done!" _

"_Me? That wouldn't have happened if you did not rudely pull the paper away from me!" _

_The bell rang, saving them from continuing the fight and she promptly stomped out._

She was about to recount the incident to the trio when she realised that it _did_ make her sound incredibly childish. "He's just so annoying," she said vaguely. Eager to change the topic, as thoughts of the ferret were not exactly improving her mood, she asked, "How about Hagrid? Still refusing to talk to you all?"

"Nah, he was really upset cause his pet gigantic spider was going to die, we comforted him, and everything's fine again."

She raised her eyebrows, "Okayyy…"

Hermione frowned at Ron, then recounted the incident in a more understandable manner.

The next time she saw Malfoy was during the astronomy lesson. Professor Sinistra was returning them their test essays they had completed the week before and she was rather looking forward to it. She knew she had done well. The red mark on the parchment the Professor passed to her told her the same.

"So… what did you get?" She wouldn't miss this chance to rub it into his face, given their conversation a few nights before.

"Exceeds expectations. How about you?"

She turned to her left, looked into his eyes and smirked. "Outstanding. I see I won you."

"Only because I was busy with.._other_ more important things."

"Of course." Sarcasm was laced in her words.

"You watch out. I won't hold back the next time." His eyes were teasing.

She raised an eyebrow. "Bring it on."

Unknowingly, they both left the classroom with a smile playing on their lips. She did not want to admit it to herself, but she was beginning to like the banter between them.

The next time they had their astronomy pairwork, she did not groan about it nor turn up late. However, what she _did_ do was to forget the papers. Which she realised only after she stepped into the Tower. She promptly turned back around to retrieve them.

"Leaving so quickly?" A curious voice stopped her.

"Uhh, I need to go get the papers, I left them in the dorm."

"Really? Now who's the one forgetting the papers. What a disappointment." He sounded amused.

"Guess it's my turn to waste a few of your precious minutes as payback," she shot back.

"Hmm, why so petty and calculative?"

"Why, I must have picked it up from you. You are a bad influence."

"Thanks for your compliment," he gave a mock bow.

Rolling her eyes, she ignored his theatrics and walked away, head held high.

A few moments later she returned, and for once, they worked together silently, accomplishing in one session what they had failed to accomplish in all the past sessions.

It was yet another week that passed before the trio started getting suspicious and concerned.

"Hey guys, I'm heading out to the Tower. See you all later," she bid them goodbye with a cheery smile.

The three of them looked at each other before Ron nudged Hermione none too subtly. She frowned at him, then looked up at Lera nervously.

"Lera…are you alright? We're all kind of worried about you," Hermione ventured.

"Well yeah I am, what do you mean?" Lera asked, confused.

"It's just that, well, we," she gestured to the three of them while Ron and Harry nodded their heads in support, "have been noticing that you're getting more…uhm, I mean, you don't ever complain about Malfoy anymore. And it's like you actually look forward to seeing him?"

"What? No! Of course not! I just stop complaining about him because.. because I just want to stop thinking about him, it's definitely not like we're friends or anything!"

"Well, okay, if you're sure. We're just trying to look out for you, you know. He's not a good person," Harry said, but looking more relieved now.

"I know, thanks," she smiled at them, touched.

As she walked to the tower, she thought about what they said and scoffed at the thought of her and Malfoy being friends. _Of course we're not friends, we can barely even stand each other! We hate each other! Hermione, Harry and Ron are wrong!_

"For the last time, stop pulling it away from me!" Somehow the relative peace and cooperativeness of the last session had not lasted long.

She shoved him hard and caught off-balance, he toppled over with a yelp. He looked so ridiculous sitting on his rear end looking shocked that she could not stop a laugh from bursting out.

"Stop laughing," he growled grumpily.

It only made her laugh harder. He reached out, grabbed her hand and pulled her down before she could react, and she fell onto the floor next to him.

"Ow! You're evil," she pouted at him.

He smirked, pleased at himself, then got up and brushed his pants. He offered her a hand. She was about to accept it when Hermione's voice suddenly sounded in her head. _You don't ever complain about Malfoy anymore…it's like you actually look forward to seeing him…_

She froze in sudden realization. She _was _acting rather friendly with Malfoy. He was treating her nicely and worst of all, _she_ was treating him nicely. And she didn't, she couldn't like him. She wasn't supposed to. He was supposed to be her enemy and enemies didn't act like her and Malfoy were acting. They were supposed to shout and glare at each other, not…

_Tease and joke with each other._

"Stop it! Stop acting so nice to me!" she cried out, ignoring his outreached hand and clambering to her feet. She stalked over to her bag, grabbed it, slung it over her shoulder and spun around.

There he stood, in the middle of her path to the door. There was not a hint of a smile on his face now.

"Why do you hate me so much?" His voice was barely over a whisper, hurt lacing his words.

Yes, she hated him, she hated the way he treated her friends, she hated his cruelty, she hated him for being so different to her, being so nice and friendly, he made it so hard for her to hate him. She couldn't stop the tears that sprung to her eyes. And most of all, she hated him for being on the other side, the side that killed her parents, the side that killed and tortured hundreds of innocents. That fact, that forced her to hate him. That fact, that made it no longer her choice. She had to. She had to hate him, even though she now realised that she did not want to.

She brushed past him quickly, so he wouldn't see the tears when they finally fell from her eyes. At the door, she turned around, and an overwhelming sense of guilt filled her as she realised how lonely and…broken he looked standing there on the empty stone floor, looking like the world was crumbling around him.

"Because I know who you work for," She whispered to the ground.

Then she was gone.


	11. Unexpected Savior

**11. Unexpected Savior**

_It was the same nightmare again, but this time, as the house burned, a hooded figure stood in front of the flames, back facing her. With a shouted "Mosmordre", a green glow shot out from his raised wand, coalescing in the black sky to form the shape of a skull. Mission accomplished, he turned and ran, and she chased after him, eager to strike him down with a curse, to do anything she could to avenge her parents._

_He was fast, but fury fuelled her steps. A silent "Reducto" missed its mark barely and hit the ground beside him, splattering his robes with earth. He stopped in his tracks and spun around; the green of the Dark Mark and red of the flames swirled on the silver mask covering his face. With one hand, he pulled the mask off his face, wand held loosely in the other hand. _

_She froze as she saw his familiar face, his blonde hair, his steely gray eyes, the cruel smirk on his face._

_He walked towards her slowly, each step deliberate, eyes as cold as death. She stumbled backwards, wand falling uselessly to the ground. "No," she whispered, then another louder "No", until finally she was shouting out the word in between sobs, as if it would shield her from him, as though it would change the face her eyes were transfixed upon. A loose tree root snagged her foot and she fell heavily. She scrambled backwards, sharp pebbles cutting into her palm, as he continued walking to her, wand pointed at her face._

"_Goodbye, Lera," he said in an emotionless voice, before he uttered the words that would claim her life._

_She barely heard the "Avada Kedavra", when a sickly green light burst forth from his wand, sizzling through the air towards her. She squeezed her eyes shut, and in seconds, inevitable and instantaneous death would reach her. She felt an impact on her chest, as heavy as a rock, knocking the air out of her lungs._

Her eyes shot open and she sat up, gasping for air. It took a while for her heart to stop racing, and a quiet "tempus" told her that it was already 4.53am in the morning. Slipping her feet into her fluffy bathroom slippers, she padded to the sink and splashed some cold water onto her face. It both calmed and woke her up, and she changed into her jogging shorts and shirt.

As she stepped out of the castle doors, she breathed in deeply, the cold and fresh air filling her lungs. It was quiet out here, and still dark. She felt at peace, watching the gentle moonlight cast a silver screen on the surface of the lake. She set off for a run. To hopefully clear her thoughts.

Her friends were right, Malfoy was a Death Eater already, if not in line to be one. He was as dark as she was light, and though it pained her so to let him go, she had to move on. She had to forget about the Malfoy she sat with in silent ease in the Astronomy Tower long before she knew who he was. She had to forget the Malfoy who offered her his book and his hand to help her up, who teased her and joked with her and made her laugh. The nice Malfoy had to be hidden forever in her mind, in her heart.

But perhaps, could she help him step out of the darkness and into the light? She entertained the thought for a while before she shook her head. It was far too late.

As difficult as it was, there was only one thing she could do. Forget.

She was glad that the next Astronomy lesson was in the classroom, where it was not just the two of them alone. She was relieved that she could very easily ignore Malfoy in guise of being attentive to what Professor Sinistra was teaching them.

But though she could pretend he was not there, she could feel his presence beside her. In the little brushes of their elbows as they copied down notes, in the steady breathing she could suddenly hear whenever Professor Sinistra paused, in the pieces of parchment that sometimes accidentally spilled over to her table before a hand would gather them, _he was there._ It was more awkward than it had ever been. He did not try to talk to her, it was as though he had accepted the fact that they could never be friends and was trying to move on as she was. When the bell rang, she was the first out of the class.

She could not sleep again. This time, it was because she had skipped dinner and her stomach now rumbled morosely. She sighed and got up. She would go to the kitchens, the house elves were always happy to welcome her.

As she tickled the pear which giggled (as well as a pear could giggle) and revealed the kitchen, she was greeted with a kitchen full of excited house elves. She was right, the house elves were absolutely delighted and her request for a cup of warm milk and some cookies turned into a full spread of scones, buttered toast, scrambled eggs and ham accompanied with a selection of coffees and teas. She soon emerged from the kitchen, filled to the seams. Every time she had stopped eating, the forlorn looks on the house elves' faces had encouraged her to force down yet another piece of pastry. She finally could not down anything else and had left the kitchen, waving goodbye to the house elves who clamored around her and told her excitedly to come back again if she needed anything.

She smiled. They were so adorable and helpful.

As she walked past a dark alcove, she frowned slightly and stopped. She thought she had heard a scuffling sound. However, a glance behind her showed nothing out of the ordinary. She was still alone. It must have been her imagination, she thought.

Suddenly, a hand clasped over her mouth, a strong arm snaked around her waist from behind. She screamed, but it was muffled by the hand. She kicked behind her with all the strength she could muster and was rewarded by a low groan of pain as she made contact with her attacker's shin. Her satisfaction was short-lived however, as she was slammed into the wall, her back making contact with the hard stone painfully. She cursed herself mentally when she tried to reach for her wand and found out that she had forgotten to bring it with her.

Rough lips descended onto her own and she shuddered in disgust. It did not really matter that she did not have her wand with her; though her attacker was considerably larger than her in size and much stronger, she had learned enough hand-to-hand combat to defend herself against him. That being said, she was furious at herself for not being aware of her surroundings, for letting herself be snuck up on. It was a failure that could have claimed her life in different circumstances. She prepared to slip out from under his arm and kick him where it hurt.

"Stupefy!" A shout, a flash of red, and her attacker was thrown away from her.

Confused, she cast a quick glance at him. It was Theodore Nott. She wanted to curse him within an inch of his life for what he had attempted to do but first things first, she had to find out who her unexpected savior was. She ran to where the spell had come from and caught a glimpse of billowing cloak and a flash of blonde hair as she rounded the corner. By the time she reached a junction, there was no one in sight. She could not confirm her suspicions, but she had a pretty good idea who it was. That blonde hair... it could hardly belong to anyone else.

**Draco's POV**

Draco lay in bed, eyes closed but still awake. He was thinking of her once again. He realised that she was all that occupied his thoughts these days. He knew that he should respect her wishes to sever ties with him, but that did not stop him from being reluctant to forget the times they had spent together.

Suddenly, there was some shuffling, someone getting out of bed, then the dormitory room door opened and a black figure slipped out. It was Nott. His curiosity piqued, he too got out of bed and slipped out of the door, following behind Nott, careful not to be caught. Nott walked down a few flights of stairs and along several corridors, unaware that he was being stalked. Suddenly he turned round a corner and when Draco ran up, he was faced with a junction and no clue as to where Nott had disappeared to. He decided to give up and turned back, only to be stopped by a sound of someone struggling. There was a muffled scream, then a groan of pain. He followed the noise and arrived at a scene that greatly shocked him.

Nott, that animal! He had Lera pressed against the wall as she struggled violently, one hand on her shoulder pushing her against the wall, the other on her face, roughly holding her still as he forced his lips onto hers. Rage rose up in him like a fiery monster.

"Stupefy!" He had whipped his wand out and cast the spell before fully realizing what he was doing.

Nott was thrown off her, flying across the corridor and crashing into the opposite wall from the power of the spell. He wanted to stay longer and curse him into oblivion but he couldn't. He could not let Lera know that it was him. He turned around and ran all the way back to the dungeons.


	12. Shattered Peace

**12. Shattered Peace**

The next day was Friday and as always, she headed for her Astronomy class in the evening.

She was the first to break the silence that had descended after the night she shouted at him.

"Malfoy, where were you last night?"

"Why the sudden concern?" There was a bitter tone to his voice.

"Just tell me."

"I was in bed." The lie came quickly to his lips.

"The whole night?" She asked accusingly.

"Yes," he said.

She kept quiet for a while. He looked uncomfortable and turned away.

"Thank you," she said at last, her voice a whisper.

He did not say anything, but she could swear she saw a smile tugging on his lips.

It was quite a long wait for Lera till mid-October arrived, and with it came the first trip of the term to Hogsmeade. She had been looking forward to it for quite some time as it would be the first time she had the chance to get out of the castle grounds for a few hours. It was vastly different from the times when she was homeschooled, as she could go out anytime she wanted to. Even with the increasingly tight security measures around the school, the trips were still allowed, which greatly pleased and relieved her.

Her high spirits were considerably dampened early next morning when she woke up and saw the dark clouds that indicated that a stormy day lay ahead.

With time to spare, she grabbed her Astronomy text and headed to a comfy couch in the common room, only to find Harry already there, poring over the Half-Blood Prince's copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ he had not yet returned, much to the consternation of Hermione. Seeing that Hermione was still sleeping the morning away in her bed upstairs, she decided that this was a good time to finally get a good look at the book. Harry had attempted several spells that he said the Half-Blood Prince had invented and curiosity was eating away at her since she could not in good conscience ask Harry to teach her the spells when Hermione was standing right next to her with disapproval written all over her face. Some of the spells were rather entertaining, but she was much more interested in those that were actually of practical use, such as the _Muffliato_, which filled the ears of anyone nearby with an unidentifiable buzzing, so conversations could be had in privacy.

She immediately joined him on the couch and peered over his shoulder, while he thoughtfully shifted the book to give her a better view. He was on a page that was particularly messy, with words squeezed in the margins that were crossed out and altered several times. The Prince had finally arrived at a conclusion, as he had scribbled a word in tiny handwriting in a corner of the page: _Levicorpus (n-verbal)._

Interested in finding out what this spell did, and feeling quite confident in her skill with non-verbal spells, she pointed at nowhere in particular, gave it an upward flick and thought _Levicorpus!_ Inside her head.

With a strangled scream, an unsuspecting Ron who had wandered down sleepily walked into the path of her spell and was immediately suspended in the air upside down, as though an invisible hook had hoisted him up by the ankle.

"Sorry," she said with a sheepish grin that did little to hide the amusement bubbling within. Harry didn't even try and started roaring with laughter. She squinted at the page and found an even smaller scribbling underneath the spell that said _Liberacorpus. _Fortunately, it was indeed the counter-spell which released Ron and dumped him unceremoniously onto the ground.

"I don't seem to remember volunteering to be your guinea pig," Ron said with a frown, prompting another round of laughter.

The three of them agreed not to tell Hermione of this little incident; there was no doubt she would not find it amusing.

An impatient wait for Filch to finish checking them with a Secrecy Sensor later, they were finally cleared to step out into the wind and sleet.

The walk to Hogsmeade was tortuous, as the biting wind cut through to her skin and rendered the many layers of shirts and sweaters and a scarf and cloak she had on useless. By the time she followed the trio into Honeydukes, she had never been so glad to be in a crowded sweet shop.

Breathing in the mercifully warm, toffee-scented air, she caught sight of Professor Slughorn who was wearing something that made him look like an unusually furry bear, making his way through the crowd towards them, and thus promptly disappeared behind a tall shelf of jars. The rest weren't as lucky and were genuinely surprised when a booming voice of "Harry, m'boy!" sounded behind them.

She peeked out from behind the shelf and watched the ensuing conversation which included a lot of persuading on Slughorn's part, declining on Harry's part, and being ignored on Ron's part. It finally looked like Slughorn was giving up and moving off.

"Now how about Miss Drae! I haven't been seeing her around lately. Perhaps she would like to join you, Miss Granger, this Monday night."

"Well, I'm not sure if she has anything on, I'll ask her," said Hermione.

Professor Slughorn, after looking around the sweet shop to see if he could suddenly spot Lera, but to no avail (as she had quickly bent down to examine a jar of cockroach clusters on the bottommost shelf), nodded and waved goodbye.

He waddled out of the shop without a backward glance and Lera stepped out from behind the shelf to rejoin her group.

"I can't believe the both of you are letting me go alone again!" Hermione sighed, then caught sight of Ron's moody expression at being overlooked once again and pronounced that they should head to the Three Broomsticks.

The four of them once again braved the falling sleet, before Lera slipped away with an excuse of visiting the quill shop to replenish her supplies and a promise to meet the trio in the Three Broomsticks once she was done.

Instead, she headed to Dervish and Banges. The shop was crowded as well, and she squeezed past groups of students to reach the counter.

"Rupert!" she called, and a sandy-haired young man seated behind the counter looked up. Upon seeing her, he signaled to another female assistant, gesturing for her to take over the counter for a while, then got up.

"Lera! I haven't seen you in quite some time!" he said with a friendly smile. "Since…" he suddenly paused as he realised that the reason why she hadn't visited was because of the attack and it really wasn't a good idea to remind her of that. So he pasted an overly bright smile on his face and asked, "So what are you looking for today? We have some new supplies that came in just last week."

He led her to the back of the shop where an impressive range of weapons were displayed, only for the eyes of a few special customers. Thankfully, her father had ensured that she was one of those few. She walked to the daggers, her favorite type of weapon, and was immediately drawn to a set. They were the most beautiful daggers she had ever seen. She picked them up to study them closely. The ornate hilt was made of dark golden metal ropes that fit perfectly in her hand. The flawless blade was black in color, and slightly translucent, as if it were forged out of a single gemstone. It shone as the light hit it. The outline of a phoenix was set into the bottom of the blade with tiny diamonds. Impressed, she ran a finger lightly across the dark blade and winced when a small cut opened on her finger. It was dangerously sharp.

"I like this!" she exclaimed with a huge grin.

Moments later, she emerged from the shop, two daggers hidden in holsters on her thigh and upper arm. She hurried to grab some quills and ink before joining the trio in Three Broomsticks.

They walked up High Street, following two older girls, cloaks wrapped tightly around them. The weather was worse than before, if that was even possible.

Halfway into the journey back to Hogwarts, she became aware that the two girls were, judging from their increasingly loud voices, having an argument about something the dark-haired girl was holding in her hand. Suddenly, her friend made to grab hold of the package, she tugged it back, and the package fell to the floor.

At once, the dark-haired girl rose into the air gracefully, her arms spread wide and head held back. Lera shivered involuntarily, not from the cold but from the… eeriness. Her hair and scarf whipped around her face, which was devoid of any expression. Her eyes were closed and she looked almost peaceful, or…dead.

The five of them halted in their tracks, watching.

All of a sudden, as she ascended six feet into the sky, she let out a terrible scream. Her eyes flew open, and it seemed as though whatever she was seeing was causing her much anguish. She screamed and screamed; her friend started to scream too, and seized her ankles, trying to pull her back to the ground. The four of them leapt forth and tried to help too, but even as they reached out, the girl collapsed back onto the ground, all the while screaming and writhing. They looked at each other with panic in their eyes, helpless and clueless as to what they could do.

"What's 'appening? Get back!" Hagrid appeared out of the sleet and ran towards them. He stared at the girl for a second, then scooped her up in his arms and ran off towards the castle, leaving the five of them standing there, rather badly shaken.

Lera hurried over to the wailing friend. "What happened?" she demanded to know.

"The package tore," she sobbed, pointing to the sodden brown package lying on the slush. "Katie touched it and…" she dissolved into great sobs, and not a legible word could come out of her mouth anymore.

Ron bent down, his arm outstretched towards the greenish glimmer that peeked out from the split in the package, but Harry seized his arm and pulled it back.

"_Don't touch it!_"

"I've seen it before," said Harry, as he crouched down and stared at the ornate opal necklace. "It was on display in Borgin and Burkes ages ago. I think it was a cursed necklace."

"We'd better bring it up to school, they'll want to know what this is and how she got it," said Lera, before she removed her scarf, and with great care, covered the necklace and picked it up. She heard Ron's gasp, but figured that she was probably safe since the necklace did not affect Katie when it was covered by the brown packaging. It was the only way she could bring it back anyway, there was too much risk in trying to levitate the necklace. There was no telling how the cursed necklace would react to magic.

"Let's bring it to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested, leading the still sobbing friend with an arm around the shoulder.

**A/N: Not much Draco action now, I apologize, but I do need to set the rest of the story. There will be a few more chapters with limited Draco involvement, then he would come back into the story again.**


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